


5 Times Spot Almost Says "I Love You" + 1 Time He Does

by CuboneGirl13



Series: ephemeral [5]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cunnilingus, Dysphoria, First Time, M/M, Menstruation, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Period-Related Dysphoria, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, chapter 3 is skippable if you're not a fan of smut, explicit content in chapter 3, tags will be added as chapters are added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-06-07 06:04:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6788983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuboneGirl13/pseuds/CuboneGirl13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Spot is emotionally constipated but the people around him get what he's trying to say anyways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Text Me When You Get There

**Author's Note:**

> I am probably making a mistake in beginning to post before I've finished but whatever

“Hey,  _ hey,  _ use this color next!” Spot jumps a little as the small glass bottle is shoved in his face.

 

“ _ Ugh _ , you smeared it!” Sarah says as she pulls her hand away. “Dang it, I don’t have time for you to redo a nail.”

 

“You fucking  _ startled  _ me, what did you fucking  _ expect?” _  he replies, rolling his eyes. Turning around to grab a tissue, he tries not to disturb the girl half on his lap. “Why the hell am I doing this, again?”

 

“Because you love me. And you have really steady hands.”

 

He silently wipes at the smeared nail polish for a moment. “Nah. More like I was just sick of you bi-  _ whining _ about how  _ awful  _ you are at doing your nails.”

 

“Suuuure,” she says with a smirk.

 

“Shut up, I hate you.”

 

“Love you too,” Sarah teases. “Are you done with the pink yet?”

 

“Yeah, I think so. Purple next, right?” He rolls the bottle of nail polish between his hands before unscrewing the top. “How long until your date?”

 

“It’s not a  _ date _ ,” Sarah protests, shoving him. “It’s just- it’s hanging out. We’re just hanging out.”   
  
“Alone. With a cute girl. W-”

 

“Alright, shut  _ up _ , jerkface. Dang it, you smeared  _ another  _ nail!” she complains, shoving Spot again.

 

“Of  _ course  _ I fucking did, you  _ pushed  _ me,” he retorts, shoving her right back. “Don't you have to leave, like,  _ now?” _

 

Sarah gives him a confused look before looking at her phone. “Oh  _ crap _ , you’re right. Can you- crud, can you just take this off? I think I brought polish remover.”

 

Spot grabs the aforementioned nail polish remover in lieu of an answer.

 

“Oh crap, I’m going to be  _ so _ late.”

 

“It’ll be  _ fine _ , okay?” He puts the tissue he was using back on the table before throwing an arm around Sarah’s shoulders. “You’ll fucking sweep her off her feet, okay? Painted nails or not.”

 

She leans into him, resting her head on his. “I mean, I’m pretty sure she’s straight, but I appreciate your confidence. Now, uh, not to ruin the moment, but I needed to leave two minutes ago and half of one hand is still painted.”

 

Spot rolls his eyes as he withdraws his arm. “Alright,  _ alright _ , I'll finish. Just chill the fuck out.”

 

He tunes her out for a minute, silently cleaning off nail polish.

 

“-He’s just the  _ worst _ , I don't-”

 

“I'm done, so shouldn’t you be _ leaving?” _

 

She glares at him, no true malice in her eyes. “I was _ talking _ , thank you. But _ yes _ , you're  _ right _ .” She stands from the couch, leaning over a hug.

 

“Text me when you get there, alright?”

 

“Alright,” Sarah says over her shoulder. “Don't worry too much!”

 

“No promises.”


	2. If I Have To

“Ugh.”

 

Jack flops on the couch with a groan, throwing his feet in Spot’s lap.

 

“What do you want, nerd?” He pushes Jack's feet off with a grunt. “Do you even know how fucking heavy you are? God.”

 

Jack sits up, brushing fingernail fragments off his shirt. “We're friends, right?”

 

“Yeah, I g-”

 

“Good friends?”

 

“Yeah, but-”

 

“You love me, right?”

 

“Jack, what's your fucking point?” Spot snaps, patience wearing thin.

 

“I, uh, wanted to ask a favor?”

 

“I'll probably regret asking,” Spot sighs, “but what do you need?”

 

Jack's face brightens. “No, you won't! I already got reservations and everything, it'll-”

 

“Reservations? The fuck are you talking about?”

 

“Yeah, I was hoping that we could do a double date? Like, me and Crutch, you and Race?” Jack replies with a sheepish look. “Like, I got reservations-”

 

“So I would be less likely to say no?” Spot retorts with a smirk.

 

Jack blushes and looks down, really telling Spot all he needs to know. Rolling his eyes, he tugs at Jack's shoulder, pulling his head into his lap.“What made you think I'd wanna go on some damn double date?” Spot teases, petting his hair.

 

“Why wouldn't you? It's a chance to spend time with three of your favorite people!”

 

“Wait, three? Race, Crutchie…” Spot counts on his fingers, looking confused. “That's only two, who's the third?”

 

He laughs at Jack's unamused look, ruffling his hair.

 

“Seriously though,” Jack says. “You up for it?”

 

“I guess,” Spot sighs, faking irritation. “But why do you even want us there?”

 

“Because it's awkward when it's just me and Crutch, man. I don't know what I'm fucking doing!” Jack rolls over, burying his face in Spot’s lap with a groan.

 

“Dude, I don't see why,” Spot says, running his fingers through Jack's hair. “I mean, you're still best friends, now you're just fu-”

 

“ _Dating._ ”

 

“Alright, _dating_ too. Just like friendship, just with kissing added, right?”

 

Jack lifts his head, a pitiful look on his face. “I guess, I just- what if I fuck up? What if I fuck up and we break up and we aren't friends anymore and-”

 

“Jack. _Stop_ ,” He says, cutting Jack off. “Shit, you're getting ahead of yourself. I'm not sure it's possible for you guys to stop being friends. I mean, if he hasn't kicked you to the curb yet, he ain't gonna do it.”

 

Jack hesitantly smiles up at him and Spot's face softens.

 

“Are we having a moment? I think we're having a moment,” Jack retorts, smile turning into a grin. Spot shoves his shoulder with a dark glare as Jack cackles.

 

“We're not having a fucking moment, you _ass_.”

 

“You love me,” Jack laughs. “You know you do.”

 

“I _guess_ so,” Spot says as he rolls his eyes. “If I _have_ to.”

 

“You do, and since you do, you have to go on that double date. Please?”

 

Spot almost says no, just to be a pain in the ass, but he just can't say no to Jack's fucking puppy dog eyes. “Yeah, sure. There are worse ways to spend an evening.”

 

Jack beams up at him from his lap and settles back in, looking way too satisfied. Ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> explicit content next chapter (IF I EVER FINISH)(writing smut feels weird)


	3. You're Perfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took Forever bc it was just so WEIRD to write man writing sex is So Weird
> 
> This DOES have explicit content so if you want to skip this chapter, feel free to as I'll put any Important plot points in the notes before the next chapter. Also this is my first time writing Sin pls don't judge too harshly I'm but a nerdly lil virgin with an active imagination and who reads too much fic

Spot slams the door behind him before pushing his boyfriend into it, kissing his neck.

“Don't you- fuck, don't you think we should move this to a bed?” Race asks, throwing his head back and exposing his neck further.

“I don't know,” Spot says with a smirk. “I have you right where I want you.”

He nibbles his way down Race’s neck, leaving a mark or two along the way. He's tugged away as he nears his shirt collar. “Well, I'm not where I want me.”

Spot laughs as he's pulled to his bed, only for it to turn into a groan as Race slips his hands up his shirt.

He rolls them over once Race gets his shirt off, straddling the other boy. Both moan as Spot grinds down against Race’s crotch, Race throwing an arm around his boyfriend's neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

“Now, isn't this better?” Race mutters with a smirk. Spot merely bites down on his bottom lip in lieu of a response, prompting a laugh from the other boy. His laugh turns into a moan as Spot resumes his ministrations on his neck.

“God, will you always talk this much?” He teases, rubbing a hand over Race’s hip.

He doesn't respond, only pulls Spot back up for a kiss, putting any thoughts of speaking out of their minds.

As Race’s hands roam the other boy's chest and back, Spot reaches for his waistband. He pauses for a moment, Spot notices, only to once again let his hands wander. Spot unbuttons his jeans, pushing both pants and boxers down in one smooth motion. Race freezes, eyes wide, as Spot realizes that, well, something's. Missing.

They look at each other for a moment in stunned silence. “I- I think there's something you need to tell me.” Spot rolls off from on top of his boyfriend, breaking eye contact.

“I- I'm sorry, I'll leave,” Race stutters as he stands up, eyes filling with tears. “I should have- I'm- fuck.”

“No- no, Race, don't- come back.” He stands and reaches for Race's hand only for it to be snatched away. “I don't want you to leave.”

“Why not?” Race demands. “I lied to you, I’m not- I'm not a real boy, why the fuck do you not want me to leave?”

Spot is fairly certain he can feel his heart breaking as he watches his boyfriend wipe at the tears beginning to run down his face. “I- dude, look at me.” With a sniff, Race finally looks into his eyes. “So, you're, uh-”

“Trans. I'm trans,” Race says, looking back down at the floor.

“Okay, you're trans, you're a guy,” Spot says as he takes hold of Race's hand. “You're a fucking ‘real boy,’ it doesn't matter you have a- uh-”

“Vagina,” Race finishes. “You can say vagina, it won't make your gay ass spontaneously combust or something.”

“I just- I didn’t know if you were comfortable with that.”

“Yeah, I just …” Race trails off, eyes fixed on a place just over Spot’s shoulder. “Do you- do you even still want me? I'm not-”

“I don't care what you're not,” Spot says, cutting him off. “All I care about is that you're my fucking boyfriend, dick or not, and if you still want to, I really fucking wanna have sex with you.”

“But- but this,” Race sniffs, gesturing at his lower half.

“But nothing,” Spot replies, stepping forward and taking hold of his hips. “God, you're perfect, can I- can I take this off?” He asks, fiddling with the hem of Race's shirt. “I wanna see you.”

Race sniffs one last time before taking a deep breath and nodding. Permission now granted, Spot helps him out of his shirt, hesitating before touching his binder. Race nods again, taking another deep breath as Spot peels off his binder.

Spot inhales sharply, finally getting to see his boyfriend nude for the first time, and he is glorious.

Race shifts, uncomfortable with the attention. “Are you- are you gonna say anything? Or just stare?”

“God, you're perfect,” Spot says, rubbing at his hips. “Holy fuck, you're so perfect.”

He kisses Race’s shoulder before pausing for a moment, considering his next move. Spot takes a deep breath as his boyfriend scans his face, then drops to his knees.

“What are you-”

“What do you think I'm doing?” Spot interrupts, stroking a finger along Race's lips.

Race shudders at the contact, weaving his fingers through the other boy's hair.

“I’ve- I've never done this before,” Spot admits. “Like, gone down on- on someone with a vagina. So if this sucks-”

“It won't,” Race smirks. “But you should be.”

He rolls his eyes, laughing awkwardly in an attempt to hide his nervousness. Spot braces one hand against Race’s thigh, using the other to spread him.

“You don't have to do this,” he starts, noticing Spot’s unease. “It’s not-”

“I know I don't have to. I want to.” With that statement, he leans forward, licking up his slit.

“Oh, fuck, do that again,” Race moans, tightening his grip. Looking up through his eyelashes, Spot does as requested, eliciting another moan.

Feeling more confident, he removes his hand from Race’s thigh and-

They both groan as Spot finds his clit, Race grabbing the back of his head with his other hand. Spot gives one last lick before closing his lips around the nub, flicking it with his tongue.

Encouraged by Race’s broken moans, Spot licks from slit to clit before gently closing his teeth around Race’s clit. He slips a finger in easily.

“Holy shit, you're wet,” Spot mutters, leaning his forehead against Race’s lower belly.

“I would hope so, dude,” Race says, voice shaking. “I mean, that pretty much means you're doing a good job. And now that you've made that brilliant observation, I think you were in the middle of something?”

He looks up with a smirk before replying. “I don't know, can't think of anyth-”

Race pushes his head back down with a shaky laugh. Looking up at him, Spot closes his lips around the other boy’s clit and sucks, humming with satisfaction at Race’s expression. Race gasps and throws his head back with a curse.

“Do- do that again, oh my God.” Spot does so, also pushing in another finger. Race pants above him, tightening his grip in his hair. Race is so wet, he can feel him dripping down his hand and chin.

Spot scissors his fingers as he sucks, relishing the broken noises his boyfriend's making, reveling in the fact that he's why Race is making those noises.

Race pulls him up with a curse, walking over to the bed on trembling legs and pulling Spot with him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he pushes Spot back down between his spread thighs. He gladly resumes his task, once again licking Race’s slit.

Rubbing a thumb over his swollen clit, Spot hesitantly pushes the tip of his tongue into him, earning him a high-pitched moan. Taking that as encouragement, he presses in further. Race throws a leg over his shoulder, pulling him in closer.

Spot rests his unoccupied hand on Race’s thigh, curling his tongue. Race cries out, throwing his other leg over Spot’s shoulder. Looking up at his boyfriend's face, he withdraws, only to thrust his tongue back in, pressing on Race’s clit at the same time.

“Fuck, do that again, oh my God,” Race says, voice strained. Always one to please, Spot repeats the motion, this time adding a finger, making Race gasp.

With one last curl of the tongue, Spot removes it, wrapping his lips back around Race’s clit. Slipping in another finger, he scissors them as he sucks, Race’s moans and gasps growing louder and higher.

He comes with a cry, shaking thighs tightening around Spot’s neck. Spot plants a kiss on Race’s thigh before de-tangling himself. Standing, he wraps his arms around Race’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

Race wraps his legs around the other boy’s waist and pulls him down onto the bed.

“I told you you'd be good at that,” Race teases.   
Rolling them over, Race fiddles with his waistband for a moment before unbuttoning his jeans. Spot leans up, lacing his fingers through the other boy's hair and pulling him down for a kiss. His breath catches in his throat as Race’s hand brushes his erection, tightening his grip on his hair. Cheeks flushed, Race starts to pull down his pants.

“Is this,” Race asks, pausing. “Is this alright?”

“Fuck yeah, it's alright, just- fuck, lemme-” Spot lets go of the other boy's hair before gently pushing him up. Lifting his hips, he pulls off his own pants and underwear, not meeting Race’s eyes.

Race inhales sharply and after a few seconds, Spot looks back up at his face.

“I don't- I-” Spot stutters, internally cursing his nervousness. “What- what now? We don't-”

“I want you to fuck me,” Race blurts out, face turning even more red. Spot's eyes widen, not really anticipating that. “I mean, not if- not if you don't want to, I- sorry, I-”

“I want to. Like, really want to. Are you- are you sure, though?” He asks, voice shaking.

Race swallows before replying. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure.”

“So, uh,” Spot starts, nervously chewing his lip. “How do- how do we wanna, uh, do this?”

“I didn't think that far ahead, to be honest.” Race laughs nervously for a moment before sitting back down on the bed. He loops an arm around the other boy's neck before slowly laying down, pulling Spot with him.

“Is this- would it be alright like this?” He asks, face reddening.

“I mean, I guess?” Spot replies. “It's your call, man.”

Race takes a deep breath before once again pulling Spot down for a kiss.

“Yeah, like this. Yeah.”

He scoots back, withdrawing his arm from around Spot’s neck as the other boy sits back on his haunches between Race’s spread legs.

“You’re su-”

“Yes, I'm fucking sure,” Race interrupts. “Come on, man, please?”

“If I have to,” Spot says, feigning exasperation. Rubbing a hand over the other boy's thigh, he drops to his knees. Race wraps his other leg around his waist, looking up expectantly.

“You waiting on something?”

Spot rolls his eyes at the taunt, stilling his hand. Scooting forward, he bites his lip nervously before reaching down and spreading Race’s lips.

“Babe, are you sure about this?” Race asks, looking concerned.

“Yeah,” Spot replies. “Yeah, I am.”

With that, he pushes in. Race inhales sharply, making him pause. After a moment, Race nods, having adjusted to the intrusion. Slowly, Spot presses in further, keeping an eye on Race’s expression. He bottoms out after a moment, groaning at the feeling.

“What, that's all you got?” Race teases with a smirk. “How disap-”

“Finish that sentence and I'm leaving,” Spot deadpans, shutting him up. “Now, uh, what- What now?”

“You're the one who's done this before,” Race says in disbelief. “Don't ask the fucking virgin what to do.”

“There's not usually any vagina involved, you ass,” Spot huffs. “It's pretty fucking unfamiliar territory here, man.”

Race shifts his hips, gasping a little at the sensation the movement causes. “I'd guess it's not that different from here on out, but please do something.”

Spot lays a hand on the other boy's hip before pulling out slightly. He watches Race’s expression as he thrusts in, rubbing a thumb over his hipbone.

“Is this- is this good?”

Race nods, leaning his head back against the pillow. “Yeah, just- just touch me, alright? I don't think-” he gasps, cutting himself off as a thumb presses on his clit. “Yeah, fuck, like that, fuck yes.”

He throws an arm across his eyes with a moan as Spot thrusts, murmuring for him to rub harder or oh god, more or even just his name.

Spot leans forward, pressing a kiss to his collarbone and trailing down to his breasts. He sucks a mark into the valley between his breasts, gently biting at the skin there. At that, Race presses his hips impossibly closer with a whimper, rocking back against him.

He loses track of time, unsure of how long they'd been together, loses track of everything but wet heat and whimpers, loses track of everything but Race. Spot pinches his clit between his fingers and with a high-pitched moan, Race comes, tightening around him, Spot following soon after.

Spot pulls out and flops down on the bed, pillowing his head on Race’s chest. They lay in silence for a moment, Spot lazily tracing patterns on Race’s stomach.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Spot says. “You really are fucking perfect, I swear to God.”

“Are you just saying that because you're laying on my boobs right now?” Race teases, only to receive a glare in return.

Spot props himself up on his elbows, looking into his eyes. “No, I mean it. You're amazing and honest to god perfect.”

“I dunno, the whole ‘wrong parts’ thing says otherwise,” Race says skeptically. “If I was as perfect as you’re saying, you'd have actually known what the fuck to do with me.”

“Babe. No. I really fucking mean it,” Spot insists. “Like, fuck that, fuck the whole ‘parts’ thing. You're so fucking handsome and funny and smart and just- you're perfect. Man, you don't need a fucking dick, you're gorgeous as is.”

Race just stares at him for a long moment before cracking a smile. At that, Spot drops back down, once again laying his head on his chest.

“You know, the boobs are a perk, though, they're like fucking pillows.”

“I knew it.”


	4. Is There Anything I Can Do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to have gone so long without an update, school and work decided that I wasn't going to write for a while, real nice, huh?
> 
> For those of you who skipped last chapter, if there ARE any of you, here is Necessary Information:  
> -Race is a pre-op trans guy who is not out  
> -Spot Did Not Know  
> -Race is an anxious baby which is why Spot Did Not Know  
> -Spot obviously Now Knows
> 
> This has not been read by anyone but me, so it may still be a lil subject to change, but hey, I'm pretty happy with it, hope y'all readers are too ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Happy holidays!!! For those who celebrate it, merry Christmas!!!

“Why do you like me?”

 

“What?” Spot blinks, looking at his boyfriend confusedly.

 

“I said, why do you like me?” Race repeats, lifting his head from the other boy’s chest. “It’s a valid question.”

 

“I- I don’t- why the fuck are you asking?”

 

“I dunno, I just want to know,” he says, laying his head back down. “I mean, I don’t even like me, so why the fuck do you?”

 

“I mean, considering you drooled on my goddamn shirt an hour ago, I don’t like you a whole lot right now,” Spot teases, rubbing Race’s back.

 

“Dude, I’m seriously asking.”

 

“I- huh,” he pauses, stilling his hand. “I mean, you’re really fucking smart and funny and handsome and shit, but, like, if that was it, there would be a whole fucking lot of guys I could like right about now.”

 

Race snorts, thumping the other boy’s side. “Well, that’s pretty damn flattering, you sure know how to make a guy feel special.”

 

“Fuck, I don’t- that’s not-” Spot stutters, dragging a hand down his face. “Ugh, I just- you’re just  _ you _ , man, I- I don’t know how to fucking say it!”

 

They sit in silence for a minute, Spot running a hand through Race’s hair.

 

“I guess-” Spot starts before biting his lip. The other boy lifts his head, a little startled. “I really don’t know any better way to put it, but, like, you’re, I dunno, you’re really fucking great but you’re not self-centered or anything like that, y’know? I mean, you’re so fucking good to everyone else but you’re kind of an ass to yourself.” He pauses for a moment, hand stilling. “Seriously, babe, why’re you asking? Did I do something?”

 

“Such a narcissist, always thinking of yourself,” Race teases. “Seriously? I dunno, period hormones making me feel shitty or something. I just- I dunno, I’m scared you’re going to get tired of me and go find yourself a real b-”

 

“If that sentence ends how I think it’s going to, I’m slapping you.” Spot takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “If this is about the whole trans thing again, like, it’s not an issue, I swear. You’re still the same dude you were before I knew, okay? Same guy I fell for, just with different plumbing than I expected.”

 

Race smiles, taking hold of the other boy’s hand. “Sorry for getting all insecure and shit on you, it’s just a rough week, I guess.”

 

“Dude.  _ Babe _ . Don’t fucking apologize, there’s no need. Seriously,” he assures, squeezing Race’s hand. “Is there anything I can do? I know periods suck and all, so, like, if there’s anything-”

 

“Just keep rubbing my back?” Race looks up with pleading eyes.

 

“Kind of a tall order, buddy, don’t know if I can do it,” Spot jokes. “But, uh- would it make me an asshole to ask you to get off me for a second? You’re getting kind of heavy.”

 

“Is that a fat joke? I mean, I know I’m kind of bloated-”

 

“ _ No _ , it’s a you’re-three-inches-taller-and-thirty-pounds-heavier-than-me  _ comment _ , you know I’m small,” Spot whines. “My legs are falling asleep and- hey, stop  _ laughing  _ at me!”

 

“Look at you, finally admitting you’re not a big, strong, tall-”

 

“ _ Hey _ , I’m strong!” Spot protests. “I can pick your ass up!”

 

“You’re calling me fat again, huh?” Race teases. “You’re not doing yourself any favors right now.”

 

“I’m not- I-  _ ugh. _ Just get up, please? I promise I won’t say anything else about your size!”

 

Race pretends to think about it for a moment before standing up. “Sure, yeah, I’ll let you up, just don’t make any more unreasonable requests.  _ That _ was pushing it, sir.”

 

“Yes, how  _ dare _ I ask you to get up, how ridiculous of me,” Spot deadpans. “I’ll never do that again.”

 

“Good boy,” Race says with a smirk. “Actually, while you’re up, can you get me some water? And maybe some ibuprofen?”

 

“You’re up too, go g-” Spot stops, cut off by a dark glare. “Advil or Tylenol? I have both.”

 

Race flops back down on the couch with a satisfied smirk. “Advil, please and thank you!”

 

Spot nods, already rummaging through his backpack. “Do you want a heating pad, too? I'm pretty sure there's one in the bathroom, I can definitely go look.”

 

“Nah, babe, all I want is you and the Advil.”

 

“So fucking  _ sappy _ , holy shit,” Spot teases, handing over the pill bottle.

 

“Bitch, keep laughing, see if I do your essays anymore.”

  
“Hollow threats,” Spot fires back. He stops laughing, though.


	5. I Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think you saw another chapter 5, you're not going crazy, there WAS another chapter 5. I deleted it because i hated it. So yeah.
> 
> We're almost done, guys!!!! So close!!!!!!!!! This is probably the second to last fic in this AU, if everything pans out like I'm thinking right now. We'll see, though.

“I love you.”

 

“What?” Spot looks up, confused.

 

“I love you,” Race repeats. “I dunno, it felt like the right time to say it.”

 

Spot raises an eyebrow. “It felt right to say it during geometry homework?”

 

“No, I meant- like, we’ve been friends for years, and now we’re dating and neither of us have ever said it and it just- it felt right,” Race tries to explain. “Does that make any sense?”

 

“Yeah, I guess,” Spot agrees. “But seriously, while we’re doing homework?  _ Really _ ?”

 

“What, were you hoping for some dramatic, romantic confession?”

 

“Maybe,” Spot says with a smirk. “I deserve it, don’t you think?”

 

“I dunno,” Race teases. “Not after criticizing my timing like that.”

 

“Okay, try again.” Spot sits up and folds his hands, purposefully staring at his boyfriend. “I won’t say anything, promise.”

 

“You promise?” Race asks skeptically. “I’m not sure I trust you on that.”

 

“Promise,” Spot insists. “No fingers crossed or anything.”

 

“I-” Race cuts himself off. “God, now there’s all this  _ pressure _ to make it good, why didn’t you just accept it the first time?”

 

“Because I’m an asshole.”

 

“You are,” Race says. “But I love you anyway.”

 

“I know,” Spot replies. “Should you, though? Maybe not.”

 

“Eh, I figure I don’t have a choice at this point.”

 

“That- that was a joke,” Spot says. “I’m sure you’ve heard of those.”

 

“I know, so was-” Race stops. “God, we need sleep if we can’t even take jokes.”

 

“That you asking me to sleep with you?” Spot asks with a wink. “You gotta be nicer if you wanna get in my pants.”

  
  
“Your pants wouldn’t fit me,” Race deadpans.

 

“Funny guy over here doesn’t understand humor right now, you really do need sleep.”

 

“What if I  _ do _ want in your pants, though? Is that still an option?”

 

“No,” Spot insists, “You  _ do _ need to sleep, I’m not joking this time.”

 

“Alright, alright, I’ll take a nap. But only if you take one with me.”

 

“I dunno if I can,” Spot teases. “That’s a pretty tall order, dunno if I can do it.”

 

“Please?” Race asks, looking at him pleadingly. “I don’t think I can sleep in your bed without you.”

 

“God, so needy,” Spot jokes, rolling his eyes. “I guess if I  _ have _ to, I can sleep with you.”

 

“You say that like it’s _ such _ a hassle, is geometry really that much more interesting than me?”

 

“Yeah, no, definitely not,” he agrees. “If it was calculus, maybe it’d be a different story.”

 

“Fucking nerd,” Race snorts. “Your dork ass isn’t gonna be fucking math if you play your cards right.”

 

Spot raises an eyebrow. “I thought we were talking about sleeping here.”

 

“Eh, yeah, sure, sleep first,” Race acquiesces. “Sleep, homework, fuck?”

 

“Sure, sleep, homework, fuck.”


End file.
